THE AMERICAN BOTANIST. 
107 
acknowledg-e the gTandeur and beaut}- of all these, but 
still we think no southern forest can surpass, or even 
\ ie with an apple or peach orchard in full bloom ; the woods 
when g-ay with dog;wood, or splendid with mountain laurel. 
Then, above all, we have our meadows, billow}- with grasses 
or bespangled with buttercups and daisies. 
We find ourselves often endowing plants with human 
attributes, and each has its character and its special friend- 
ships. This idea fonnerly regarded as essentially poetical, 
now meets with scientific recognition in such terms as 
"plant communities" and a student in collecting is asked 
to note the associations which plants form with each other. 
In early summer the meadows are yellow with bulbous 
buttercup — at least in New England. By the time this 
passes away, the ox-eye daisy will spread its stars over the 
lawn — so very beautiful if they were not so common. The 
"^larguerites" or "pearls" are ever associated with fortune 
telling — -and it is not alone poor Gretchen who plucks their 
prophecying rays. The English daisy — "the wee crimson- 
tipped tlower" of Bums, is a very different plant, and in 
America seen only in cultivation in lawns or in garden beds. 
At this season we often see a red flush over the mead- 
ows. It is caused by the sheep-sorrel. The individual plants 
have little to commend them, but from a distance, when they 
wave with the grasses they give to this red sea an appear- 
ance of changeable silk. 
The red clover is protruduig its ruddy blossoms, -while 
ilie little white one creeps along by the roadside. Much 
prettier than either, is the now^ rather common alsike, with 
delicate pink heafis. It is the THfolium hybridum of 
science. Equally fine is the pompom-like crimson clover 
now and then grow'ti in Xew England. TrifoUum incar- 
nutiinL 
